


and flood my soul

by ohvictor



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: On a rainy afternoon, Koga finds Rei in a vulnerable state.





	and flood my soul

**Author's Note:**

> you can read this as pre-ship or as gen! title is from release me by mae.

It's raining, drenching the grounds and buildings of Yumenosaki in a thick static that renders concentrating on practice near impossible. The deluge is doing wonders for the pollen hanging around the place, washing it off the windows and sidewalks in great yellow clumps, and Koga feels like the pressure that's built up in his sinuses for the past month is easing, just for the afternoon.

Practice is futile, but... Hakaze’s date of the day canceled because of the weather so Hakaze is sitting in the light music room, a miracle with shitty hair. So wherever their loser of a leader has gone off to, he can't be that hard to find, not when Hakaze is here for fucking once (with Adonis watching him so he won't escape while Koga’s gone) and Koga feels better than he's felt in weeks.

Of course, if Sakuma-senpai ever answered his damn phone, the search would be easier, but Koga can get by on smell alone, probably.

He sniffs the air, reveling in the smell of rain from outside, clean and earthy. There's a faint scent that smells like vampire (dust, iron) coming from the south, so Koga follows it - all the way to the south wing of practice rooms, only one of which is occupied.

There's music playing that Koga recognizes as a Knights song, but no one seems to be singing. Koga presses his ear to the closed door of the practice room and hears raised voices - Narukami and Sena, but from their tones, they're just bickering, probably just as restless from the rain as everyone else. At any rate, Koga’s mistake is clear: he tracked the wrong vampire.

He grumbles and kicks the wall next to the practice room door. Sniffing the air yields nothing but the strong scent of Ricchi, so he treks back down the hall, still grumbling. If smell won't help, he supposes he could use logic, and visit places Sakuma-senpai might have gone. Sakuma-senpai doesn't really go anywhere, though, besides the clubroom or sometimes to pester Ricchi or Hasumi, and Koga already checked two of those places, and he's not going to go to find Hasumi, not when his mood is too good to be ruined by a lecture. And he probably wouldn't have gone home early, not to that big lonely house Koga’s only been to once and doesn't want to return to anytime soon.

No, there's nowhere Koga can think of that Sakuma-senpai would be, and he told Adonis to text him if Sakuma-senpai appears in the clubroom, so it's really a mystery--

“Wanko,” comes a startled voice right in front of him, and Koga’s whole body freezes.

He registers Sakuma-senpai in stages. First, the bony shoulder he nearly smacked into, so occupied with his thoughts. Next, the old vampire smell, filling Koga’s senses as he inhales, and, though he'll never admit it, it relaxes him to have Sakuma-senpai so close. Then, as he steps back, he takes in Sakuma-senpai as a whole, the familiar bland sweater under his blazer, the wavy tips of his hair framing his thin face, his--

His red eyes, which are, right now, considerably redder and puffier than usual, and, oh, god, it occurs to Koga only now that Sakuma-senpai was missing because he didn't want to be found.

His immediate second thought is that he doesn't think he's ever seen Sakuma-senpai cry before.

“Wanko,” Sakuma-senpai repeats, and Koga shakes himself, dropping his gaze quickly.

“Vampire bastard,” he answers, remembering himself. “Hakaze...-senpai’s date canceled, so I was hopin’ we could all practice.”

“Oh,” Sakuma-senpai says. He reaches up with one hand and swipes the cuff of his sleeve over his eyes, wiping away the tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I’m sorry for being absent, then.”

“If you're not feelin’ up to it,” Koga blurts out, and Sakuma-senpai smiles, a shadow of his usual smug grin.

“I’m afraid I _am_ rather tired. This weather takes a lot out of me.” Then he _sniffles_ , and out of nowhere Koga’s chest starts aching, the way it does when sad things happen in movies or when Leon licks his hands. “Could you tell Kaoru-kun and Adonis-kun that I’m not feeling well? If you like, I’m sure you three could practice without me.”

He's already turning to go, and all Koga can think is that he _can't_ let Sakuma-senpai leave and go back to crying alone, even if he has to cling to Sakuma-senpai’s leg and follow him like a lost fucking puppy.

His hand shoots out before he can control himself, and he grabs Sakuma-senpai’s sleeve, holding him back. The fabric is just like Koga’s own uniform, but it feels electric, lit with the thrill of touching something he's never held like this before.

Sakuma-senpai turns back around, his shadowed smile slipping. “What do you want, Wanko?” he asks.

It feels cruel to ask Sakuma-senpai to stay when Koga’s already invaded his privacy so much, but the pang in his chest has other plans. “Lemme walk with you,” he insists. _Where are these words coming from?_ “I’ll tell the others to go home, okay?”

Sakuma-senpai’s expression is strained. “You're sweet,” he says. “But I don't need babysitting, you know.”

“That's not--” Koga shakes his head, trying to think. He releases Sakuma-senpai’s sleeve and stands back, a show of trust. “That’s not what I meant, asshole. If you're not feelin’ good, it's okay to ask for help!”

He folds his arms across his chest. Sakuma-senpai, to his credit, looks surprised, and then he sighs, his shoulders sagging forward as if defeated.

“Well, if you insist, I suppose I have no choice.” He gestures at the hallway. “Can we go someplace less public? If my clubroom is occupied...”

“Most of the practice rooms are open,” Koga says. “Knights is there, but they're always absorbed in stupid arguments, so no one will see us.”

“How familiar that sounds,” Sakuma-senpai says, and he looks pointedly at Koga for one brilliant moment. Koga is too busy feeling his heart pound under that gaze to catch the insult until Sakuma-senpai looks away, and then he twitches as Sakuma-senpai says, resigned, “Well, lead the way, then.”

Koga walks forward numbly, and he hears Sakuma-senpai shuffle after him. With Sakuma-senpai out of sight behind him, Koga takes a precious few seconds to figure out what the hell is happening. He has no idea what awful thing could have happened to make Sakuma-senpai really cry - not the crocodile tears he sometimes musters for Ricchi or Hasumi to get his way, nor the sleepy tears that fill his eyes when he yawns wide enough to crack his jaw, but real tears, enough to make his eyes red and swollen and his whole body drained of his usual lazy confidence. Even last year, Koga doesn't remember Sakuma-senpai ever looking truly sad, or even angry, really, not any angrier than he always acted back then, loud and prideful and captivating.

Even worse, Koga doesn't know why he couldn't just apologize and leave Sakuma-senpai to stew in his weird angst in peace. He doesn't know why the thought of Sakuma-senpai being sad enough to cry makes his chest clench, like a fist tightening in resolve. He wants to fight whoever could make Sakuma-senpai look like this, but he has a feeling the cause is something he can't attack with fists. After all, even Tenshouin couldn't make Sakuma-senpai cry, and the harshest words from Ricchi have never drawn real tears. Koga knows by now that Sakuma-senpai is far from invincible, and, logically, he knows that everyone cries, but the tears in Sakuma-senpai’s eyes still left Koga breathless, spinning out of control with the need to make it okay.

They reach the practice room, and Koga opens the door for Sakuma-senpai to slip inside before the noise of footsteps can attract attention. These practice rooms aren't soundproofed as well as the ones in the dance building, so they can hear the music from Knights’ practice faintly through the wall. Sakuma-senpai slumps down in one of the chairs, and folds his arms across his chest, regarding Koga with vague curiosity.

He looks calmer, now, and Koga might have thought he imagined everything, but then Sakuma-senpai sniffles again, and rubs his nose on his sleeve, and says, “Are you going to sit?”

Koga drags a chair over to face Sakuma-senpai’s, and sits.

“This is embarrassing,” Sakuma-senpai sighs. “Especially since it's you. I hate to shatter your glorious image of your senpai, however it managed to survive to the present day...”

“Nothing’s been shattered,” Koga interrupts. “Don't talk like that.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and regards Sakuma-senpai. His face is almost normal again, and when he sees Koga scrutinizing him, he offers a watery grin.

“Okay.”

Koga twists his hands together in his lap, and can't think of anything to say. He stares at Sakuma-senpai’s hands, folded neatly in his lap, long red nails immaculate as ever.

“What are you thinking?” Sakuma-senpai asks quietly.

It surprises Koga, although he's heard Sakuma-senpai prompt others like this before, Sakasaki or one of the Aoi twins when they're in a mood. He also can't bring himself to admit that all he can think about is Sakuma-senpai, so he says, “This weather. All the pollen’s washing away.”

“Ah,” Sakuma-senpai nods. “It must be easier for you to breathe.”

“Yeah!” Koga swings his legs. “Feels fuckin’ amazing. I can smell again, although it still took me a while to...”

He stops. Sakuma-senpai raises an eyebrow.

“To find me?” he suggests.

“Yeah,” Koga says reluctantly. “Mixed ya up with your brother at first.”

Sakuma-senpai nods. “I guess I'm grateful that you took a while to find me.”

Instinctively, Koga bristles, although he's not sure what he's angry with. “What kinda bullshit is that, huh? You shouldn't have been alone!”

There's a beat, in which Koga watches Sakuma-senpai make his expression carefully blank.

“I already said I don't need you to babysit me, Wanko. Perhaps the blockage in your nose has moved to your ears instead.”

“I’m not babysitting you!” Koga snaps.

“Sure,” Sakuma-senpai says. “If that's true, then why are you treating me like a fragile child?”

“I’m not--” Koga starts.

Sakuma-senpai scoffs. “You think I need to be watched and coddled? Did you forget I’m older than you, _much_ older? You think you can just pout at me and that'll make everything okay?”

Koga’s mouth has fallen open in shock. Sakuma-senpai stops, closes his mouth, and looks down at his lap. His hands are clenched into white-knuckled fists, and he opens them carefully, staring at his palms.

It's different from the way they usually fight. Koga would love to be the one yelling now, instead of hearing that harsh, twisted voice Sakuma-senpai spoke with. He struggles to remember his own voice, to figure out what to say.

“Isn't it okay for me to just _care_ about you?” he says finally, and there's no bite in his words anymore. “Can't I worry if you're feelin’ bad, and wanna help if I can?”

Sakuma-senpai blinks, and Koga realizes with horror that his eyes are filling with tears again.

“Shit,” he starts, “I’m sorry,” but Sakuma-senpai waves a hand at him, and he falls silent.

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Sakuma-senpai says. He sniffs, and rubs his eyes quickly. “I’m not being very nice, am I? If all you wanted was to make sure I was okay...”

“Yeah,” Koga says quietly. He shifts forward in his seat, wanting to be closer. “I don't like seein’ you upset, okay? Even if I can't help at all, I gotta try... My chest hurts, and stuff.” He pauses. “It sounds dumb.”

“No,” Sakuma-senpai assures him, and he's smiling now, a hint of an old smile that makes Koga’s chest ache all over again. He presses one hand to it, his palm over his heart.

“Okay,” he mumbles, feeling like a child.

“It's nothing bad,” Sakuma-senpai continues, the smile staying on his face. “The rain reminds me very much of London, and I got a bit nostalgic. Old men like me aren't always in control of our emotions, and I had a little cry over it. But there's nothing for you to worry about.”

Koga feels dizzy with relief, so much that he sags in his chair. Sakuma-senpai really is okay, and it's so stupidly _like him_ to get weepy over something like missing his old home that Koga wants to cry too, from the fondness swelling up in his chest.

“Sappy old man,” he says, and Sakuma-senpai laughs.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I’m sorry for making a fuss. I’m not myself today.”

 _That’s true_ , Koga thinks. Normally he would have had to go through a lot more preamble to get the truth from Sakuma-senpai, dance around dozens of riddles all given with that tired smirk that Sakuma-senpai hasn’t worn once today. Koga doesn’t miss it.

“It rains a lot in London, right?” he asks.

Sakuma-senpai nods slowly. “Not as often as people say, but often enough that rain makes me miss it. The whole place gets greyer, like the sky itself is sagging down onto the streets. And all the restaurants and the train stations get full of wet, grumpy people. It’s a silly thing to miss, since it was very depressing while I was there, but I suppose it’s the nature of a vampire to take pleasure in depressing things sometimes.”

He tells Koga about London then, how different the feeling is from Tokyo, how the people dressed and spoke and looked at him. The ache settles back into Koga’s chest, and he holds his hand over it, like bearing this pain will make Sakuma-senpai’s burden ease a little.

When Sakuma-senpai finally trails off, there are fresh tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t move to wipe them away. Koga watches one tremble on Sakuma-senpai’s eyelashes, and when he blinks, it courses down his cheek.

“I hated London,” Sakuma-senpai bursts out, and his voice is tight. “I was so--scared and sad all the time when I was there. And yet sometimes, I--”

He breaks off, mouth twisting, and puts a hand over his face.

Koga can’t feel his body. All he can think is that Sakuma-senpai is hurting, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s standing and closing the space between himself and Sakuma-senpai. He puts his arms around Sakuma-senpai’s shoulders and hugs him awkwardly against his chest, ignoring the surprised noise Sakuma-senpai makes at the contact. After a moment, Sakuma-senpai relaxes, and he drops his hand in his lap and buries his face in Koga’s shirt, shuddering once and then going still.

“Sometimes,” he mumbles, muffled in Koga’s shirt, “I think even _that_ is better than being back here.”

There’s nothing Koga could say that would make this okay. The realization hits him like a slap in the face, and then after it, another realization hits: that Sakuma-senpai has felt this way all year, and Koga had _no_ idea.

Before he can think of anything to say, Sakuma-senpai is sitting back in his chair, smoothing his hair back and wiping his eyes roughly. Koga retreats to his chair and sits too, and he opens his mouth to respond but no words come.

“I only feel that way sometimes,” Sakuma-senpai says, misreading the look on Koga’s face. “When I’m alone, or with my brother, or with the other students. But you...” He sighs. “I promise, I’ve never thought that around you.”

Koga finds his voice. “I wasn’t thinking that, damn it!”

“Oh.” Sakuma-senpai frowns.

“Yeah!” Koga leans forward, watching Sakuma-senpai’s face. “If you’re telling me this, it means you trust me, even if I did force you to talk to me in the first place! I’m not an insecure guy, but I’m a guy who worries about his friends, and if you’ve been feeling shitty, I wanna know! Even if there’s nothing I can do, I wanna know!” He puts his hand over his chest, remembering the ache. “So you don’t have to go through it alone.”

For a second, Koga’s worried Sakuma-senpai is going to cry even more, but then Sakuma-senpai _laughs_ , and rubs his hands over his face.

“You’re a really good guy, you know that?” he says. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Koga flushes at the praise. “Nothin’ really. I guess I am too good for ya.”

“I’m glad that you’re confident in yourself.” Sakuma-senpai lowers his hands, and as he looks at Koga the smile he wears is radiant, like the sun breaking through the clouds after rain.

“Yeah,” Koga breathes, still looking at Sakuma-senpai’s mouth.

“Are Adonis-kun and Kaoru-kun still waiting on us?” Sakuma-senpai asks, jolting Koga out of his thoughts. He flushes and scrambles to check his phone.

There’s two missed calls from Hakaze. Koga groans. “Aw, shit, I guess so.”

“If everyone still wants to practice, I feel a little better now,” Sakuma-senpai suggests. “You can keep a secret, right, Wanko?”

“Don’t call me that,” Koga says automatically, distracted by framing a text to Hakaze. “You sure about practicing?”

“Yes, I think it would be good to see Kaoru-kun and Adonis-kun after such a draining day.” Sakuma-senpai hums, sounding in better spirits for the first time this afternoon. He pats the skin under his eyes with his fingertips. “Such a pity that crying always leaves traces on one’s face. If Adonis-kun knew something was bothering me, I’d never hear the end of it. What a sweet boy.”

Koga nods in vague agreement, and sends off the text to Hakaze. “Okay, I told them we’re on our way.”

“So we are,” Sakuma-senpai agrees, and he stands and stretches out his back. Koga pretends not to hear the faint crack. “Will you lead the way, Wanko?”

“Just because you cried on me doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you call me that,” Koga huffs, but Sakuma-senpai is smiling again, that big bright smile that Koga hopes, selfishly, is only for him. He grumbles and turns away, leading the way out of the practice room. Sakuma-senpai follows, and shuts the door behind them as they go.


End file.
